


Comfort

by koalathebear



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Comfort Sex, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Manpain, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 22:04:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalathebear/pseuds/koalathebear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place the night that the Breach is closed.  I wanted to write angry!hurt sex but I really couldn't write it and this is all that came out in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort

Mako hesitated for a moment and then knocked on the heavy metal door. There was a resounding silence. She knew he was in there, though so knocked again.

"No one's home, fuck off!" a slurred voice drawled. 

Mako swallowed hard, lowering her head for a moment and then knocked again, this time more insistently.

The door flung open. "For the love of fucking …!" Herc swore as he threw the door open and glared out. His words died on his lips as he saw who was standing there. Mako Mori, the only other person at the Shatterdome who had lost as much as he had that day.

Following the successful closure of the Breach earlier that day, there had been no time for Herc Hansen to stop and mourn. Averting the apocalypse didn't just sound dramatic, it was also a time of pure and utter chaos. There had been a multitude of matters to attend to, not the least of which had been the retrieval of Mako and Raleigh from the ocean. Even after that, there had been meetings and debriefings with the United Nations, deployment in the Breach area to confirm its closure as well as trying to formulate a strategy for the way forward. 

Herc had never asked to be promoted to Marshall but here he was, alone and in control of a very important but precarious enterprise that was going to be a political and logistical nightmare.

Not surprisingly, at the first opportunity, he had taken himself back to his quarters and proceeded to try to drink himself into oblivion or at least unconsciousness. His original quarters, he didn't want to move into Pentecost's chambers yet, or ever for that matter.

He would probably have slammed the door into the face of anyone else who had knocked. As it was, he managed to restrain himself with immense effort. "Miss Mori – my apologies." He swallowed hard for a moment. She could smell the liquor on his breath. He had clearly been drinking and a lot. "I’m not really in the mood for any visitors – and you should still be in the infirmary with Raleigh."

"The doctors say that I am fine," she told him, clasping her slender hands together. Her voice was earnest, her eyes huge and she wasn't moving from his door.

He made a frustrated gesture of helplessness. "Sorry about Stacker," he told her inadequately. "Now go away," he told her bluntly. "Please."

He stared at her in disbelief as she ignored him, walked past him into his room and closed the door behind her.

"The fuck?" he demanded of the air. He stared at her with his reddened eyes, his vision slightly blurred. Despite all the alcohol, the pain was still there. The guilt. The loss.

 _Catch you in the Drift, dad…_ All the things he never said, all the things he had wanted to say. The Drift made it unnecessary to talk but the absence of spoken words could also leave a raw and gaping wound.

Mako looked around the room. It reeked of alcohol and sure enough there was a half empty bottle of vodka on the bedside desk. 

"Where is Max?" she asked.

"Chuck's room – can't get him out of there … tried … failed …" Max muttered, drawing a hand that was not quite steady across his eyes. He walked over to his table and took another swallow of the vodka, wondering and hoping that that this would be the one that finally knocked him out for a few hours.

Mako walked over to him and took the vodka from his protesting hands, putting the lid back on it and putting it away.

"…the fuck?" he demanded. "Waltzing in here … I want to be left alone, got it?"

"I know you are in pain," she told him softly. "None of this was your fault – you have to stop blaming yourself."

"The hell it wasn't. _I_ was supposed to be there in that bloody Jaeger with him – what kind of man sends his only son out to die?"

"You had no choice, you were injured. Your son was a grown man and he made his own choices."

"Too right, …all the wrong choices, just like his old man," Herc muttered bitterly, fumbling for the vodka again just as Mako swatted his hands away.

Herc swayed on his feet, glaring at her, the anger rising in him, made worse by the effects of the alcohol.

"Get out of here. Now – that's an order, Ranger," he told her in a low voice. His cropped hair gleamed red in the dull light of the room's dingy lighting and his blue eyes were reddened with tears he had shed when no one was around.  
His breath positively reeked of alcohol and he was almost out of his mind with self-recrimination.

Mako took a step forward and placed her hand flat on the front of his grey t-shirt. She could feel the strong and steady thud of his heart through the thin fabric. "You don't need the alcohol," she told him softly.

He laughed, the sound abrupt and contemptuous. "Christ, so holier than thou – just like your old man."

Her eyes filled with tears. Guilt stabbed through him but instead of apologising he simply continued to make it worse. "Come to comfort the grieving old bastard, have you?" he demanded. "If you're going to try and take away my booze you'd better have a good replacement for it," he told her.

He stopped suddenly and stared at her as she shrugged off her jacket and began to unzip and step out of her flight suit. "The hell? Christ, Mako – get out of here before you do something we'll both regret," he told her, staggering backwards, shock on his face even as his gaze lingered on her slender body hungrily.

Mako stepped towards him, dressed only in her plain, cotton underwear, shivering slightly from the cold. "You're not alone," she told him softly. "I don't want to see you suffering like this."

"Then leave, love. You're just going to end up embarrassing yourself."

She flinched and he gave a harsh laugh. "See? Door's that way."

She shook her head stubbornly and he raised his eyebrows sardonically, determined to shock her into going away and leaving him to his misery.

"And just how far are you willing to go, Miss Mori?" he demanded, his hand reaching out to stroke the curve of her breast despite himself, his gentle touch at war with the savage expressions on his face.

"However far you want to go," she told him simply, her gaze calm and definite.

He raised a sardonic eyebrow, still swaying slightly on his feet. "Really? On your knees then, Mako," Herc ordered her flippantly. 

To his complete shock, she sank to her knees on the cold ground and stared up at him expectantly. As if of its own volition, Herc's hand slipped down slowly to the zipper of his pants as if daring her to pull away. He unzipped and freed himself and Mako's pupils dilated slightly as she trembled. He was larger than she expected. Clearly his clothes had masked how well-endowed it was.

"Like what you see?” He demanded roughly.

He moved in front of her. “Take it out,” he ordered her. He watched, disbelievingly as her small hands undid his belt and snap, slid his pants down his legs until they reached his knees. Her hands returned again to pull his boxers down his legs.

"You ever even given a man a blow job before?" he demanded, noting her clumsy awkwardness. She shook her head and he told himself that he needed to stop the madness. Instead, he heard himself say,“Go on then, show me how much you want this."

Her hands encircled him, enticing him as they gripped his hardness. Herc's hand on the back of her head urged her closer. She opened her mouth, taking him deep inside her mouth as he shuddered with pleasure. Mako's tongue ran tentatively over his flesh as he gripped her head on both sides.

Swearing loudly, he jerked himself away from her. " Get out of here now, while you still can," he bit out, pulling his boxers and pants back up roughly and moving away from her.

As he glanced back at her flushed face though, he swore again and stepped forward, pulling her into his arms and crushing her mouth beneath his. Her mouth was soft, pliant and welcoming. Her hands slid up to pull him closer, her lips parted hungrily beneath his, not caring that the long stubble on his face was scraping her skin. As soon as her hands slid beneath his t-shirt to touch his warm skin, any shred of residual self-control was gone.

*

It felt like a fucking kaiju was stomping around in his head and Herc took a few seconds to assess the damage before he opened his eyes with difficulty.

"Don't move too quickly."

_Holy shit, it wasn't a dream._

He squinted up into Mako's face blearily.

"You smell awful," she remarked, wringing out a face washer and wiping his face with it.

He struggled to his feet and staggered over to the metal hand basin in the corner of his room, splashing his face with cold water and then rinsing his mouth out. He looked up into the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw covered in overgrown stubble and he looked and felt like complete shit.

Mako came and put her arms around him to steady him, leading him back to his bunk. He leaned on her despite himself because the room was still spinning.

"How many times did I heave?" he asked her, closing his eyes.

"Twice. You were very noisy. And you used a lot of words I don't know."

"Thank Christ for that," he muttered. She handed him a glass of water which he drained. Lucidity was returning slowly and he stared at her more closely. Her black hair was tousled, she appeared to be wearing nothing except his discarded t-shirt and her long slim legs were bare and pale in the morning light.

"Did I do that?" he asked her, indicating the various bruises and scratches on her body. She nodded silently and he was aware of the scratches and bite marks on his own body. His hand went to his throat. "For the love of bloody mike, a hickey? What are we? Fifteen?"

He covered his eyes for a moment and then looked at her again. She had beard rash on her face but she looked calm and did not appear to have any regrets for the previous night. Images flashed back through his head, explicit and exciting. She had been a willing and enthusiastic participant but that didn't make him feel any less depraved or lecherous.

Nonetheless, he reached out his arm and drew him down to the bunk beside him so that her slim body lay against his. 

"I'm sorry if I hurt you," he told her, his voice low and rumbly as her cheek rested against his chest. She felt his calloused fingers touching her cheek. He'd touched her everywhere with those hands … his mouth had kissed her everywhere and she'd returned the favour gladly. 

There was an unfamiliar ache between her thighs and he frowned in concern as she winced slightly. "You ok?" he asked her.

"Yes, just a little bit … sore." 

He flinched. "I'm usually not so rough," he told her. She was so soft and slender, it appalled him that he'd been so rough with her, hadn't been more gentle as he'd slaked his lust and lost himself in her. It hasn't just been the sadness and the guilt … he'd been mad with desire and longing as well and she had appeared to welcome every act that they had engaged in.

"It's fine," she told him softly and her soft mouth covered his lingeringly. The little whimpers she made as he pressed her to the bed and kissed her harder reminded him of the little cries and moans of pleasure she'd made as he had kissed her on the soft flesh of her inner thigh, claiming and possessing every writhing inch of her. He'd never been so out of his head with desire, never come so hard. He'd also never felt so damned guilty.

"Does Raleigh know you're here?" he asked.

She nodded silently.

"And he doesn't mind?" he demanded in disbelief.

Mako was silent for a moment. "Raleigh understands."

"Raleigh's a bloke and I'm pretty sure he wants to fuck you himself," Herc told her grimly, his blue eyes staring into hers with a hard expression.

"He knows how I feel about you both," Mako said simply.

There was a long silence and Herc's hoisted her up so that she lay on top of him and he could rest his hands on her derriere as he stared up into her face.

"I don't usually share my women," he said after a long silence. She said nothing, just tucked her head against his shoulder and stroked the roughness of his jaw, tracing the stubble with a tapering fingertip. "I'm also usually not the recipient of pity fucks," he remarked dryly.

She frowned a little at that, shaking her head. His body tightened as she lowered her head to lick his nipples, taste his skin and trail kisses down his lean, flat stomach.

He caught her and drew her back up. "No, you're still sore." He pulled her back into his arms and kissed her lingeringly, showing her that he could be gentle and loving.

"Do you do this kind of thing often, Miss Mori?"

"No. Just this time," she told him seriously.

"Guess I got lucky," he muttered. He closed his eyes and lay back against the hard pillow. He had never been good with words. "I'm sorry about, Stacker," he told her finally and inadequately.

"I know," she told him, cupping his face in her hands and kissing him lingeringly.

Then she drew away from him and slid from the bed. Her bare feet were on the cold ground and she shivered slightly as she looked about for her clothes.

He rose and reached out for her. "No," he said softly. "Please don't go." His voice was low and harsh. She looked up at him, her face startled at his unexpected moment of vulnerability. "Stay with me," he requested gently, drawing her back into his arms and holding her tight against him.

Her arms slid around him, resting her cheek against his chest. "I'll stay as long as you want me to."

 _Forever,_ he thought, but he said nothing.


End file.
